


Listening To Your Vinyls In Winter While My Heart Aches For You

by Eorendel



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: A lot of feels, Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, Coming Out, Confusion, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endings aren't the worst sometimes, Fluff, Gaby is a badass, Illya is a Teddy Bear, M/M, Minor Violence, Miscommunication, Napoleon is Napoleon but with a lot of heart, Nicknames, Swearing, Teenage Drama, Use Your Words, Victoria is kind of a bitch, Winter Setting, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8139641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eorendel/pseuds/Eorendel
Summary: Illya doesn't know what to do with his feelings – would it be worth the risk to try to lose something precious for something else that might not end well anyway?
He's getting sick and tired of the situation he's put himself in.
It doesn't help when Victoria pushes him over the edge.
Why can't he just forget everything and move on? 
Oh right, because he's hopelessly in love with his best friend.





	

Illya stared at his ceiling while the ashes of his Marlboro fell on the floor like tiny dirty snowflakes. Outside, real snowflakes began to drop and cover the canopy of the forest behind his house. His cig died out; Illya didn’t notice, his mind was somewhere else, with someone else, maybe in another reality altogether. _It would be nice_ , he thought, _it would be nice to have everything you want and confront the consequences of anything_. He closed his eyes and brought his hands to his face, extremely cold as usual, and remained like that for a few moments.

His cell phone buzzing stirring him up from his trance. Illya got up, closed the windows, and retrieved his cell phone from his drawer.

 

_From: Gabriela  
_ _Subject: Explanation?_

_Where are you? I haven’t heard a word from you since Friday! What the hell did Victoria want to talk with you about? Answer me, or I swear to God I’m going to go to your house right now and wrestle you until you cry for mercy._

_PS: I’m not joking._

 

Illya sighed. He knew Gaby was serious and she wasn’t going to stop until he got the whole picture of what happened the last Friday. But not even Illya himself knew what exactly had happened. He really didn’t want it to put it into words. He just knew he couldn’t deal with Gaby at the moment.

 

_To: Gabriela  
_ _Subject: I will explain._

_There is no need for you to worry. I will tell you everything on Monday. You should be studying for your Algebra test, not texting me._

_PS: I know you aren’t. I’d rather not go through it again._

 

Illya looked out his window. The trees were fighting the cold, it was a bleak image, their lives were ending.

Endings were the worst.

 

_From: Gabriela  
_ _Subject: Avoiding me isn’t going to work forever_

_I’ll let it slide for now since I do have to study for that despicable class. And also have practice with the guys (they are slacking off). However, don’t even think for a second you are off the hook!_

_PS: I love you Teddy Bear, even if you are a blockhead sometimes._

 

Illya smiled a bit, a half smile. It cracked a bit when he replied back with a: _Love you too, Little Warrior_.

“The Teddy Bear and the Little Warrior” were the nicknames Napoleon came up when they were growing up as kids. Even then, he was way too inquisitive about those around him – he could see the best of people in an instant, but he also could see the worst clearly. He gradually stopped looking for the best and only focused on what could help him in whatever thing he wanted. He changed. The day Illya realized that, he and Napoleon had a big fight that ended up in the two of them grounded. Illya thought, at the time, that Napoleon was betraying him, somehow, by changing who he was. They made up a couple of days later when Illya realized that the one who had betrayed their friendship had been Illya himself.

He wasn’t sure when or how he fell in love with Napoleon but after that fight he concluded he was the main character of a tragedy. Napoleon liked girls, and even if Illya had the most remote chance to do something about it ( _tell him his feelings, date, be lovers_ ) Illya wouldn’t have done it because back then he was too scared to do anything about those new, frightening feelings. What he did was swallow up and pretend. He did it so well that in their freshman year Napoleon met Victoria.

They have been dating since.

Gaby didn’t like her when they met. They clashed but that wasn’t a surprise, Gaby clashed with people all the time. Napoleon and Victoria were seen as the King and Queen of the entire school. They both strived in the attention, they were alike in that regard. Illya looked away every time he saw them kiss. Illya tried to burn the feelings he had for Napoleon with everything he could: cigs, beer, a few times drugs, and usually the bed of someone willing. He felt empty – like something had been gouged out of him while he wasn’t looking –  so when he was with someone, for the briefest of moments, Napoleon disappeared from his mind.

It was a bitter relief. He always regretted it. He always looked for more.

When Gaby found out about it, she wasn’t very pleased to say the least. Around their senior year Illya confessed his secret to Gaby who looked murderous and promptly resumed a choke hold he had on him. She told him he was a foolish man and stormed away. Illya understood, Gaby wasn’t good with words when she was angry. So, it was a surprise when she returned with crying eyes just to hug him tight until the janitor of the school told them to go home.

Gaby, their little warrior, tried to convince him to do something about it. “It” being his feelings. But whenever Gaby brought the topic Illya avoided it and subsequently got into a submission hold courtesy of the current champion of wrestling of the whole State. Napoleon saw them like that once, he raised an eyebrow, stared at them for a couple of minutes and concluded, “You should stop pissing her off, Teddy B. She might one day pull out the stuffing out of you for real.” Gaby released Illya and went to get a drink, it was when Napoleon asked him, “Are you two dating?”

That simple question enraged Illya, he snapped with a blunt, “ _No_.” And Napoleon lifted his hands in surrender immediately but before he could go – Illya still doesn’t know why he said it – but he blurted out, _“I’m gay._ ”

Napoleon stopped in his tracks, glanced back at Illya seriously. There was a moment where Illya felt tempted to take the words back and lie, but before he could say anything, Napoleon said with a growing smile, “Does it mean we are getting rid of your turtlenecks?”

Illya threw a cushion at Napoleon face. He laughed and laughed and finally cried because his chest felt lighter and Napoleon hugged him, teasing him about how odd this way since Illya’s sense of fashion was atrocious. They bickered and talked to each other in the way they hadn’t done in years. They fell asleep on the floor of Gaby’s living room with her hoarding all the covers. It felt like they were kids again. It felt right. The following morning, he found Napoleon asleep half on top of him. Illya didn’t move, barely dared to breathe, and waited until Napoleon woke up on his own.

It was still a mid afternoon on a Saturday. Illya looked out his window again, the snow fell down like a veil, making everything seem prettier than it really was. He took his cell phone and dialed Napoleon’s number. He lit another cig while he held the device between his ear and shoulder. At the fourth ring, Napoleon answered.

“Hey, Teddy B."

“Hey.” Illya took a long drag and exhaled in a huff, “Do you wanna come over later, to my house?” His hands began to shake, so he decided to sit for this conversation.

There was a pause, “Are you okay?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I can hear you’ve been smoking—your voice changes, you know?—and you’re being blunter than normal.”

_If I’m that easy to read then you should know. You should know._

“If you can’t come over... It’s alright.” Illya wanted to kick himself over that pause.

“Now, I didn’t say anything about not going. Don’t put words into my mouth, it’s uncouth.” Napoleon answered in that tone of voice that meant he wasn’t in the mood of dealing with bullshit.

Illya remained in silence, already thinking he had screwed everything up.

“I guess I’ll find out if I go, right?” Illya heard Napoleon sigh on the other side. “I’ll be there in half an hour. There’s something I have to finish over here. Okay?”

Illya swallowed the bitter taste of tobacco, his chest hurt, “Yes. You know where the spare key is hidden.”

“Yeah, I know. Gaby knows. The entire neighborhood knows where it is. I swear, I don’t know how is that you haven’t been ransacked by burglars by now.”

“A thief wouldn’t look for a key.”

“A smart thief would.” Napoleon answered, “I know I would.”

“So, you mean I should be grateful that you haven’t robbed me of my possessions yet?”

“Har har, see you soon, Teddy B. I’ll be there before you know it.”

“Okay…” Illya said, thumping the back of his head against the wall, “See you soon.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Why aren’t you wearing a coat?” Illya demanded when Napoleon opened the door of his room.

“I forgot.” Napoleon answered, “Besides, it not that cold.”

“You said the same thing last year. You got a cold and then it worsened because you can’t take care of yourself and ended up with you getting pneumonia.” Illya said annoyed, he stood from his bed and went to his closet.

He pulled out the warmest coat he had and threw it at Napoleon.

“You are a sweetheart.” Napoleon said cheekily, already enveloped in the coat that was a little bit too big for his frame.

“And you are oddly careless in the weirdest things.” Illya closed the closet, turned around and leaned against the flat surface.

Napoleon hummed while padding to Illya’s bed, “I wouldn’t say _weird_ . I would say, _unimportant_.” He sat, took his shoes off and threw them under the bed. “I have other much more important things in my head to worry about than clothes.”

“Your health isn’t _unimportant_.” Illya argued crossing his arms over his chest. Illya was unimpressed with Napoleon’s attitude, giving him a patronizing look.

Napoleon groaned overdramatically and flopped down onto the bed, “Stop worrying, for Christ’s Sake! I’m wearing your coat, aren’t I?”

Illya sighed and Napoleon let out a chuckle.

“Anyway,” Napoleon propped his head on his hand and turned his eyes to Illya. “What do you want me for on this lovely winter evening?”

Napoleon was smiling, and Illya stored the scene in his mind. “I have something for you.”

“For me?” Napoleon’s eyes lit up, two shiny oasis of blue. “What is it? What is it?”

Now it was time for Illya to chuckle. “Be patient.” He retrieved a small box from under his desk, and slowly, mostly for show, went over to his bed. Napoleon reached for the box but Illya quickly held it atop his head.

“Aw, come on, don’t be a dick.” Napoleon scowled, but he was still smiling.

“The box isn’t going to disappear. Calm down.” Illya sat cross-legged before Napoleon, and placed the box between them.

Napoleon raised a brow. “May I?”

Illya mimicked the expression. “You may.”

Illya watched as Napoleon rummaged through the things inside. They only were three things inside: the first one was a package of three vinyl albums of Beirut, The Black Keys, and The Felice Brothers. The second one was a book of how to cook simple dishes with almost anything (or nothing). And the third one was Illya’s watch. More accurately, Illya’s father’s watch. Napoleon held Illya’s watch in his hand, and stared at it for a long time, then he turned to stare at Illya. His expression was inscrutable.

“We’ll talk about this later. Let’s listen to some music first.” Napoleon said, standing up and taking The Felice Brothers album _The Felice Brothers_.

The vinyl record player in Illya’s room was a gift from Napoleon two years ago, along with Illya’s first vinyl record. The music began to play softly and Napoleon went back to Illya’s bed. They stayed side by side in silence for the duration of four songs. Illya knew Napoleon was beside him, and he wanted to reach out and touch him like he wanted, hug him and tell him everything but he didn’t. The Greatest Show on Earth was playing when said he needed to get a smoke outside.

“I’ll go with you.” Napoleon said while retrieving his shoes from under the bed.

Illya didn’t try to stop him. They went downstairs turning on the lights as they went. Illya opened the door of his backyard and was assaulted by the night’s cold air. The moonlight illuminated the forest; the snow seemed to sparkle from time to time. They sat on the cold ground since the outdoor furniture had already been stored. Illya lit a cig and exhaled the smoke.

“Give me one.” Napoleon asked.

“You don’t like it.” Illya said even as he passed one and the lighter.

“I don’t, particularly, but I can smoke if I want to.” Napoleon tried to say while simultaneously trying to use the lighter while the cig hung from his lips.

Illya looked away.

They didn’t speak for a while but it was alright. He had spent the evening with Napoleon and had given what he wanted to give, everything was alright. He took the last drag of his cig and exhaled the smoke while the nicotine in his blood made his work – Illya felt Napoleon’s stare.

“Are you dying?”

The butt of Illya’s cig fell onto the snow, Illya stared at Napoleon who had a really concerned face. He opened his mouth and then tried to say something but what it came out was a weak “ _No?”_ and a fit of laughter.

Napoleon didn’t look amused. “I’m not kidding. Are you sick or something?”

Sobering up, Illya shook his head. “Why do you think that?”

“You gave me your _father’s_ watch.” Napoleon said gravely.

Illya took a moment to recollect his thoughts. “I want you to have it.”

“ _Why?_ Why now?” Napoleon demanded rising to his feet, planting himself before Illya, “Are you moving away? I know how fucking important that watch is for you. And you’re giving it to me!”

“Exactly!” Illya stood up as well, a little irritated by Napoleon’s behaviour, couldn’t he just take the watch? “I’m giving it to you because I want you to have it! Is that difficult to understand?!”

“Yes!” Napoleon shouted heatedly, physically pushing Illya back, “It feels as if you’re planning on leaving me!”

Taken aback, Illya couldn’t say something back. There were rare the times when Napoleon got truly upset. And he had never seen this kind of reaction. A part of him, a tiny crazy part, felt overjoyed for being the cause of this. He thought, _he cares about me_.

That soothing and thrilling sensation soon died out – _he cares about me because I’m one of his best friends_.

Taking a deep breath, Illya summoned the strength to deal with an upset Napoleon, which was the equivalent of dealing with a mad cat about to take a bath. “Calm down. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

Napoleon watched him intently. “You are lying.”

Illya clenched his jaw. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Napoleon shot back, getting into his space, the few inches he had on Napoleon did nothing about the intensity or the heaviness of his stare, “What are you lying about? Why are you lying? How could you think you could lie to me? I’ve known you for all my life!”

Illya let out a laugh of disbelief, Napoleon had hit a nerve. “Don’t flatter yourself, _Solo_.” Illya knew he wasn’t wearing a nice expression. “You really think you _know me?”_

The words were carried by the wind and they certainly weren’t lost when Napoleon heard them. The expression on Napoleon’s face was one Illya wished to forget. He immediately regretted what he said. But words couldn’t come out from his mouth to make things better.

Quietly, with a tone of voice that carried fragility and hurt, Napoleon said, “I thought I did.” He turned around and proceeded to go inside the house.

“Wait, Leo!” Illya called after him, but he couldn’t move from his spot, maybe it was the dread at knowing that he had made a grave mistake, doing the one thing he feared the most: he hurt Napoleon.

“Goddammit!”

 

* * *

 

 

Illya ran inside, past the kitchen and the living room. He opened the door and frantically looked outside. Napoleon wasn’t nowhere in sight. He couldn’t have run away, could he? He needed to call him. Illya needed to explain. He couldn’t leave things as they were. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Napoleon’s number. It went directly to voicemail. He cursed again. Illya was messing things up, paving the path that Victoria wanted. He had, unwillingly, given Victoria the upper hand.

Last Friday, Victoria pulled Illya aside, they were alone in the parking lot – Gaby had left with a murderous glare. Victoria Vinciguerra was a proud girl, beautiful, and dangerous as a vicious snake. She was as admired as she was feared. There was a reason why she was feared. Victoria had the knack of knowing people’s weaknesses.

“I want you to end your little charade with Napoleon.” She had said, looking into Illya’s eyes meaningfully.

“I don’t understand.”

She made a little sound of discontent. “Please, don’t waste my time. You and Gaby know what I’m talking about. I think anyone with a half a brain would know how disgustingly in love you are with Napoleon.”

Illya tensed up and said nothing to that.

“Look, I could care less about who you want to fuck. But, it so happens that the one you want to fuck is _my current boyfriend_. I have plans for our future. Plans, that sadly, don’t include you. Please, make a reality check with that little brain you have and do the math. It doesn’t matter what you feel. I am a better fit for him. And it isn’t as if you had a chance in the first place.”

She took a step forward and kissed his cheek. “Do us both a favor and back off. _Now._ ”

Victoria left Illya alone with a skip in her steps.

Illya was pretty sure what he felt in that moment was explained by the expression “had the rug pulled out from under his feet.” He felt disconnected with reality, so much so that he wasn’t truly aware how he drove back home and ended up in his room with the vinyl record playing Napoleon’s gifts. He didn’t call anyone, his mother was on a business trip, Gaby would only go to Victoria’s and make a mess (possibly homicide) and not even Gaby’s uncle Waverly could get her out of trouble of that one.

He laid in bed for the rest of the day, thinking just one thing, _What should I do?_

Illya repeated that question throughout the night inside his head. At two in the morning he came up with a simple answer. _I want to see him._

With that thought he finally fell asleep.

Now, while he dialed Gaby’s number in panic, he wondered if he should have done the right thing and simply pull away little by little – detaching himself even if it could hurt them both. Even before Victoria came up with her petty threat. His call to Gaby went to voicemail. He went upstairs to his room, and to his surprise, found his bedroom door closed. And then, he heard Napoleon’s voice inside. The relief he felt became panic when he heard Gaby’s name being mentioned.

At once, Illya tried to open the door. “Leo! Open the door!”

Napoleon didn’t answer to him. Illya could still hear the murmur of Napoleon’s voice, he began to panic. What if Gaby ended up telling him everything? Something snapped from his self-restraint and without much of a warning, he threw himself against the fragile door. He knew as soon as he tried to push it that Napoleon was against it. Illya charged at the door again. One push more and the door was done for, Illya heard Napoleon’s voice clearly: _Gaby! Come on!_

The door gave in sending Illya, and Napoleon subsequently, hard down the floor. The white door wasn’t heavy but adding Illya’s weight, Napoleon wasn’t having a fun time being crushed under them. Despite that, Illya heard Napoleon’s voice wheezing out: _Nothing. What else?_

Illya scrambled off the door, lifting it up and throwing it towards the hallway. He dove in to snatch Napoleon’s phone but Napoleon was already trying to move away while still holding his phone to his ear. Illya gripped the back of Napoleon’s coat – well, his borrowed coat – and pulled him back hard. He reached again for the phone but he wasn’t expecting Napoleon’s elbow to hit his ribs. It rattled his lungs, but he hadn’t been Gaby’s test dummy for years for nothing. He beared the pain, locked Napoleon’s free arm with his around Napoleon’s torso simultaneously restraining his legs by wrapping his own legs over Napoleon’s thighs and pushing them apart. The last step was the phone, which he struggled to get from Napoleon’s hold and finally hurling the damn device to the farthest corner of his room.

They were panting by the end of it.

Only their gasps for air were the only disruption in the otherwise silent night.

Slowly, Illya became aware of his current position and flustered like the hopeless boy he was.

Unsure what to do, Illya released Napoleon’s legs first, carefully, moving slowly as if not to spook him. Illya was expecting Napoleon to flee as soon as he could, but he stayed like that. His back against Illya’s chest, his free hand gripping the hand Illya used to grab his arm. They remained like that for a long time. Illya’s heart was rabbiting all around and the thought of Napoleon feeling it was a torture.

With a sigh, Napoleon slumped back into Illya even more. “What did she tell you?”

Illya knew Napoleon was talking about Victoria. But, his mouth felt dry and he didn’t know what to say. He was afraid. And maybe, this was the last time he was going to be able to touch Napoleon.

“Why can’t you tell me?” Napoleon leaned his head back, his hair tickled Illya’s neck.

Illya felt his heart was about to burst and now he was sure Napoleon could feel it, could _hear_ it. Illya bowed his head, hiding his mouth behind Napoleon’s shoulder. His other arm crossed over the other and hugged Napoleon tightly and then he said with a knot in his throat:

“ _I’m going to let go of you now_.”

And he did. But once again, Napoleon did something Illya didn’t expect. Napoleon, quick as lightning, held both of Illya’s arms in place.

“No.” Napoleon said, the crumbling tone of his voice lightened the anger he still had at Illya’s muteness.

Illya didn’t move away. He didn’t want to, either.

“You can’t—” Napoleon began to say, took a pause to take a breath, “You can’t do this to me. I don’t—I don’t get what’s happening. But I don’t fucking care. I don’t fucking care what Victoria told you. I wouldn’t fucking care if people told you the same thing, whatever the fuck it was. _You are not leaving me. You can’t leave me._ ”

There were far and in between the times Napoleon allowed himself to be emotional, rarer were the times when Napoleon’s tears were witnessed by someone. Illya hugged Napoleon again.

“And I don’t want you to hate me.” Illya said, feeling horrible for making Napoleon feel like this. “I don’t think I’d survive if I knew you hate me.”

“Why would I hate you?” Napoleon asked, voice thick with emotion, vulnerable.

After a pause, after thinking, _I’m a coward_ , Illya said, “Because I love you.”

He waited for a reaction, what he didn’t expect was Napoleon turning around, tear stained face with rosy nose and puffy eyes, asking, “Romantic love?”

Illya flushed deep red, tried to say something, but ended up just nodding stiffly.

He saw the punch coming a mile away but Illya didn’t move. He took the punch. He knew he deserved it. Napoleon gripped the shirt under his coat and shook him once, twice. After a while, Illya realized that Napoleon was trembling. He began to cry, like when they were children – younger and innocent. Bewildered and a little bit more than stupefied, Illya didn’t know what to do. Napoleon was still in his lap and his hands were gripping Illya’s shirt but his head was bowed while he tried to control himself and his emotions.

Illya was prepared to be punched again when he tried to hug Napoleon again but neither rejection nor a hit came his way, Napoleon buried his face in Illya’s shirt and sobbed quietly. Illya did his best at comforting him until the cries subsided.

After an undetermined amount of time, Napoleon was calmer, cradled in Illya’s arms. After a few sniffs here and there, while he laid his head on Illya’s shoulder, Napoleon spoke, “I broke up with Victoria three days ago.”

Napoleon’s voice startled Illya out of his musings, “What?”

He didn’t answer the question. Frowning, he said accusingly, “How could you not know? The entire school was gossiping about it to no end. Even the teachers. _Even Gaby knew_.”

“You know I don’t stop to do that.” Illya usually shut down every time Victoria’s name was mentioned in a conversation.

Napoleon eyes were still red and puffy and he looked terribly lovely, Illya couldn’t look away. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Before Illya could defend himself, which thing he admits could have gone poorly, Napoleon talked over him, “I don’t hate you.”

Illya’s expression must have been priceless because it made Napoleon smile a tiny bit.

“Now that your plans had been foiled, you can’t leave me.” Napoleon paused. “Unless... do you want to leave me?”

“No!”

“Good.” He said, settling into Illya’s embrace shamelessly.

Illya’s mind was reeling. What was happening? Did Napoleon just…?

“Illya.”

“Yeah?” Illya said faintly.

“I’m staying the night and...”

“Yeah?” He straightened a bit, looking down at Napoleon.

“I want a key, too, besides the watch.” Napoleon said with a tiny smirk.

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [TheVeilwalkerWitch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVeilwalkerWitch/) for editing it~


End file.
